


Not Coping

by Sheriparty



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drabble, Maybe angst, Suicide, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:28:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheriparty/pseuds/Sheriparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble I wrote in class when I was bored. Not very good but oh well.<br/>Post Richenbach. About how Seb wasn't coping with Jim's death. TW for suicide and alcohol problems. Badly written since it was in class. Sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Coping

As much as Sebastian liked to tell himself that he was coping with the death of his boss, the truth was that he wasn't. He was far from coping. He eyed the empty bottles of vodka, knowing he would have to get some more. Consuming large quantities of alcohol was how he managed to get through the day without putting a bullet through his head. It had been two years since Jim had died on that roof, even Sherlock came back before he grief had left him. That was what made it worse. The man was still alive which meant that Jim died for nothing. Sebastian had attempted to carry on what Jim had started. He had John Watson burned on November 5th. When news reached him that he was still alive he became even more determined. He spoke with Charles Augstus Magnusen who seemed willing enough to help him. The plan they had was perfect. Almost perfect. On the day that Sherlock was to be sent out of London, Sebastian found himself on the roof of St Barts Hospital. He hadn't been up hear since the fall. His finger hovered over the trigger and the barrel pressed against his forehead. Closing his eyes the allowed himself to click off the safety. "Did you miss me?" Seb's eyes opened at the sound of the familiar Irish voice. When he looked up he saw the smaller man standing in front of him. Moriarty smiled at his pet, "Hello Tiger." Jim's old nickname for the sniper rolled of his tongue so naturally you would never believe that he had spent over two years away from him. Jim looked at Seb and he could clearly see the damage that his 'death' had caused him. 

Seb, though still muscular, had lost allot of weight, there were dark circles under his eyes and he had clearly developed a drinking habit in his absence. Jim hadn't expected him to get this bad, he knew that Seb would had a hard time dealing with his absence but not like this. He looked like hell and that was putting it lightly. Jim's hard expression softened slightly at the sight of his tiger in such a state.  
"Oh 'Bastian, what have I done?" He muttered to himself. 

Though he could see the slight difference between this man and the Moriarty that had left him, he refused to believe that his boss had returned. "I though I was past this. I guess not and you won't let me die even now.", 

Moran dropped the gun and sunk to the floor beside it. He closed his eyes tightly for a few seconds before opening them again. Moriarty was still there.  
"Sonovabitch just leave me alone already. Your dead and your still telling me what to do" A look of shock spread across Jim's face. His tiger was defiantly worse than he had expected. Sebastian looked terrified, more so than Jim had ever seen him. He knew that Seb believed that he was an hallucination and that hurt. The fact that Seb couldn't tell the difference between reality and none reality was proof that Jim had gone to far this time. Jim walked towards his tiger as Seb took the gun in his hands again. "Seb, don't..." but he was a second to late. Seb had already pulled the trigger.


End file.
